


Road Trip

by Spurlunk



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spurlunk/pseuds/Spurlunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Athos, Porthos and Aramis have been dreaming about a cross country road trip to New York City since they were thirteen. The summer before their senior year of college, it's finally time for that dream to become a reality. They have adventures and pick up a new friend, D'Artagnan, along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road Trip

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the lovely Scott (mycitylight on Tumblr) for beta-ing this for me!

Prelude

The three of them had been planning this trip since middle school. They had been saving up for years, planning everything meticulously, and now it was actually coming true.

"Road trip!" Porthos yelled, honking the horn of his car twice as he pulled up in front of Athos' house. Aramis was sitting next to him in the front seat, and he jumped out to open the trunk. Athos was already in his front yard, sitting on the steps with his girlfriend, a couple of bags on the pavement in front of him.

"Farewell, milady," he said with a flourish, bowing to her as he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently. She pulled him in close to kiss him on the mouth, hugging him after.

"Ugh, why are you spending the next three weeks with those losers, you see them every day anyway," she complained.

"Those boys are attached at the hip and nothing you say to Athos will change that," Athos' stepdad, Mr. Treville, told her. He handed Athos a few twenty dollar bills, and shook his hand before saying goodbye and wishing him safe travels. Athos put his things in the trunk and got into the front seat before Aramis could, setting up the GPS and arranging the book of maps he'd brought with him as Porthos peeled away from the curb with a squeal of tires echoing behind them.

Minnesota

"We have to take pictures with the Snoopys." Porthos said, as they passed the sign for Minneapolis. Aramis was sitting in the middle of the backseat, playing with the iPod he'd set up with perfect road trip playlists, as Athos messed with the radio settings, turning it down low when a song he didn't like came on. The two of them were close to blows when Porthos diffused the tension by confusing them completely.

"The what?"

"You know, Peanuts. The comic strip. The guy who made them lived here, and there are Snoopy Statues all around St. Paul. We have to take pictures with them. I'm going to make a Facebook album and it has to have more than just pictures of your ugly faces in it," he said, turning off on the exit that led to downtown.

"Recalculating..." the GPS said, and Athos pulled out his map.

"This is going to take us out of our way."

"Hey, I brought the snacks, and if you two keep being cranky, you're not getting any."

"Fine, I'll take a picture with Snoopy. But I won't smile." Athos said. Aramis laughed, throwing his head back, and Porthos snatched the iPod out of his hand, holding it out of his reach.

"And, no more of this arguing over the music. I swear, I'll put on Radio Disney if you don't stop."

"What are you, my dad?" Aramis said petulantly.

"If he's your dad, you have a fucked up relationship with your father," Athos said.

"And that's coming from Mr. Fucked Up Relationship himself," Porthos added.

"Yeah - hey!"

Porthos laughed his warm, throaty chuckle, and slid effortlessly into a parking spot half a block away from a Snoopy statue painted rainbow colors.

Wisconsin

Athos had to pee. Porthos pulled into a rest stop, one of those small ugly buildings with restrooms, vending machines, water fountains, and piles of brochures of local sights to see. There was nothing to see here but cows.

Aramis went to the vending machines to buy some soda, clearly not content with his friends' drink selections, and Porthos waited by the car, smoking a cigarette and looking handsome.

Athos was walking out of the restroom when he spotted a sad boy sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and his long dark hair in his eyes as he rummaged through a worn backpack. Against his better judgment, he walked over to him and introduced himself.

"I'm Athos. Road tripping with my two buddies, Aramis and Porthos. Are you with someone, or do you need a ride?"

"I'm D'Artagnan. I was taking the bus, but it left without me. Which way are you heading?"

"East."

"I'd love a ride at least part of the way, if it isn't too much trouble."

"Not at all. Come on, let me go introduce you to my friends." Athos said, giving D'Artagnan his hand to help him to his feet.

The others were a little wary of their new friend, but within minutes of talking to him, it was clear he was as harmless as a stray puppy. As he sat in the back seat with Aramis, he explained his story to them all.

"I met this girl, online. Her name is Constance. She's the most beautiful person I've ever met, inside and out. She lives in New York, and I asked my parents if I could go meet her, as a graduation present - I just graduated from high school last month - and they said no. So I decided to just go on my own."

"Aw, you're road tripping for true love. That's better than our reason." Aramis said.

"What's yours?"

"Friendship," Porthos replied.

"So, love again, then. We have the same goal." D'Artagnan said.

"How sweet!" Aramis said, delighted. He pulled out a packet of twizzlers from the snack pile and handed one to his new friend.

"Thank you," D'Artagnan said, and that was that.

Iowa

When Porthos got tired, Athos took over driving. D'Artagnan sat up front, slumped against the window as he snored lightly. He had his hoodie up over his head and a few strands of dark hair rustled as he breathed. Aramis and Porthos were in the backseat, Porthos' head in Aramis's lap, both of them leaning against each other as they dozed. Athos had turned off the music, and all he could hear was the whooshing of the wind as he drove down the highway.

There was nothing in Iowa but cornfields, and in the dark of night with nothing but empty road in front of him, it was almost ethereal. The mist surrounded them on all sides, and he seldom saw another car pass by. There were some street lights, but the faint yellow barely penetrated the blackness. It almost felt like the scene in the windows was just a screen, showing the same video that had gotten stuck on repeat.

Athos cracked a window and let the breeze ruffle his hair. He smiled.

Illinois

They were out of snacks. Porthos had severely underestimated the amount of food that four young men could consume. Aramis took the first exit he saw, which led them to an iHop in a small town none of them could remember the name of afterwards.

The placemats were sticky, and the waitress was too tired to even flirt back when Aramis turned on his most charming smile as he placed their orders. It was mid-afternoon, too late for lunch and too early for dinner, but the place was crowded, mostly with families and children, ostensibly on road trips like they were, but maybe not having such a great time.

D'Artagnan finished his massive stack of pancakes - the others had been very generous, sharing their food with him. Athos had paid for his meal without even pausing to make a deal out of it. He promised he would pay them back when he could, and Athos told him not to worry about it in a way that made D'Artagnan think that he was from a wealthier background than the others. Nobody but the rich would talk about money in that careless tone of voice he had.

As the others ate and chatted, laughing and bickering as always, D'Artagnan excused himself to go to the restroom. When he got in there, he headed for the stall - there was only one, but it was closed. He peered underneath and there were no legs, so he pushed it open with his shoulder. The door banged against the wall and revealed a little sandy-haired boy sitting cross-legged on top of the toilet tank.  He stared calmly at D'Artagnan with big brown eyes.

"Hey, kid. I didn't know you were in there. Do you mind if I use the bathroom?" D'Artagnan asked. The boy climbed down and walked over to the sink. D'Artagnan took care of business, and when he came out to wash his hands, the little boy was still there.

"You okay?" he asked. The little boy stuck his finger up his nose. D'Artagnan dried off, and then took him by the hand, leading him out into the restaurant. He flagged down a waitress, and asked her if she knew who the kid belonged to. She said no, and rushed by with a tray of dishes. He looked around the restaurant. Who looked like this kid, only older? There were too many choices. D'Artagnan walked the little boy around to every single one, asking them if he belonged to them. The kid was no help, he either couldn't, or wouldn't speak, instead sticking a booger on D'Artagnan's ripped jeans, as high as he could reach.

Finally the very last table he went to grabbed the boy up, partially annoyed and partially grateful.

"We sent him to the bathroom alone for the first time, I was just about to go back in there looking for him, but I didn't want to leave my baby alone," the young mother said, thanking D'Artagnan profusely.

"It's no problem. Have a nice day," he said. He probably would have tipped his hat, if he had one. When he walked back to the table with Aramis, Porthos, and Athos, Aramis clapped him on the back.

"Ah, our friend D'Artagnan, savior of small children in distress. What a noble young man," he said. D'Artagnan made a face, but the pit of his stomach filled with a warm happy feeling. Aramis had called him his friend.

Ohio

Ohio was not a pleasant state. Aramis was driving, and they were all so tired that Athos had made the executive decision to find a hotel. He'd called ahead and reserved a room, but now they were driving around in Toledo at night, trying to find the place. The GPS charger had broken, so they were just going off of maps, and tempers were running high.

"Can you even imagine what it would feel like? Sleeping in a bed. With a soft mattress, and pillows. A blanket. Nothing moving, no noise of cars passing by..." Porthos said dreamily.

"Shut up and help me navigate!"

"That's Athos's job!"

"Well he's not doing it very well, is he? We've been driving around for forty minutes."

"I can just ask someone for directions - " D'Artagnan began, but Athos shot him down and he stared out the window instead.

"Breakfast. No shitty vending machine snacks, but actual free breakfasts with muffins and cereal and eggs and waffles..." Porthos continued.

"Porthos, please."

"Talk about something else. D'Artagnan?"

"Have I told you about my girlfriend, Constance? She's beautiful, and so smart, and kind, and clever - "

"Yes, yes, D'Artagnan, we know, you've told us before. I'm sure she is just as happy to meet you as you are to meet her."

"There it is, that's the hotel!" D'Artagnan exclaimed, and Aramis moved over three lanes and turned left in such a rush that the tires squealed and Porthos was thrown onto D'Artagnan in the backseat, smothering him until he regained his balance.

After checking in and deciding who was going to sleep on which bed (Porthos and Aramis claimed one while D'Artagnan and Athos claimed the other), they ordered a pizza. Sitting on top of the beds, sharing pizza and watching a really bad horror movie on TV, D'Artagnan wondered how on earth he had gotten so lucky. As if he knew exactly what he was thinking, Athos reached over him to grab the last slice of pizza just as D'Artagnan started to reach for it.

"Hey!"

"Hey what. You snooze, you lose."

"Really?"

"Really."

"This bed doesn't feel as great as I thought it would in the car." Porthos said. Aramis threw a pillow at his head

Pennsylvania

They stopped in a sports bar in a college town that evening. There were a lot of people there, because it was a bustling Friday night. A hockey game  was on, and a cluster of young men were gathered by the television, beers in hand. D'Artagnan followed Aramis to a small round table, and Athos grabbed four chairs from somewhere. They were all sitting there for only a few minutes before Porthos downed a drink and grinned at them, heading over to take a seat at a neighboring table populated by two very attractive young women who had been looking his way for a full five minutes. Porthos spoke with them for a couple of moments, pointing back at their table. Aramis pointed at his own chest in an exaggerated 'who, me?' motion, and then walked over, waving a grinning goodbye at D'Artagnan and Athos as he went to join his friend.

"I'm pretty sure those girls have boyfriends," D'Artagnan said, slowly working on his own drink - as the only member of this group under twenty-one, he had just a Coke, and had turned down Porthos' offers to buy him something stronger.

"How do you know?" Athos asked.

"I saw them walk in, with those two over there."

"Oh. They're big."

"Do you think we should say something?" D'Artagnan asked, a little worried.

"Nah, they've done this before. Just sit back and enjoy the show."

An hour later, they were heading off again, Porthos sporting a busted lip that caused his manic smile to be colored with blood dripping into his teeth, and Aramis looking just as dashing as usual even with one black eye.

"They're just gluttons for punishment." Athos explained.

"Punishment? Girls and violence, what more could a man ask for in life?" Aramis said.

"It was kind of fun," D'Artagnan said, pushing his hair behind his ears. Despite Athos' insistence that they wouldn't get involved, as soon as some of the boys' friends jumped into the fray, he leapt right in to make it a fair fight, and D'Artagnan followed soon after. They had all been kicked out of the bar minutes later, laughing and bonding in a way that only beating up people together could provide.

"You drive, D'Artagnan," Porthos had said, and D'Artagnan had tried not to smile at him. He noticed that everyone had been taking turns except for him, and hadn't said anything because he knew that he was an interloper in the road trip they'd been planning together as friends for years. He jumped into the driver's seat and tried to focus on not crashing into anyone in his excitement.

Virginia

Aramis had to pee, and when they passed a sign for the next rest stop, it said it was over forty miles away. Aramis kept whining about it and Athos finally had enough.

"Let him out or he'll piss on my legs, come on," he said, and D'Artagnan obliged, pulling over to the side of the road. Aramis bolted out of the car, running into the woods on the side of the road. They all could hear him sigh as liquid trickled and splattered on the ground. When he came back into the car, he was in such a good mood he plugged his iPod in to try one of the road trip playlists again. Everyone was in a better mood, so no one was annoyed at his music choices, which ranged from the song Blue by Eiffel65 to Barbie Girl by Aqua. Then Aramis started to fidget. Porthos noticed first, since he was sitting in the front next to him, as Aramis had taken over driving duties.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I itch, down there," Aramis said. Athos burst out laughing, it was the first time D'Artagnan had seen him laugh the whole time they'd been together. He wasn't even sure he'd seen him crack a smile before. Porthos grinned a wicked little smile, and reached his hand over, placing it in Aramis's lap. Whatever he did, it made Aramis yelp and swerve over into the next lane.

"Eyes on the road, Aramis!" Porthos said, but he didn't move his hand.

"Get a room, you two." Athos said.

"Get him off me!"

"You don't meant that, you like me."

"I'm in pain, Porthos!"

"But it's beautiful pain, isn't it," Porthos replied, his voice softer. D'Artagnan and Athos shared a glance. They both felt a little bit like they were intruding on something private, thankfully Athos cleared his throat and Porthos and Aramis seemed to remember they were not alone, jerking apart. Aramis turned up the music, and drove on.

Washington DC

Technically, the nation's capital was out of the way, but Athos insisted that they stop there, because he said he had always wanted to see the monuments. Porthos and Aramis went off together after staying with the others for the World War Two Memorial, and that left D'Artagnan to keep Athos company. He was actually interesting to be around, apparently he was very much into history, and kept up a running commentary akin to a personal tour guide.

The others met up with them again at the end of the afternoon, and they drove on to Maryland, eating gelato together overlooking the ocean as the sun set. It was magical.

New York

There was just something about New Jersey. As soon as they'd crossed the border, they were feeling cranky and tired and annoyed from being cooped up with each other in the same car for days on end. When they got to New York, D'Artagnan split so quickly that the others almost didn't see him go. The other three boys went up to their hotel room, not really speaking to each other. It was Porthos who got them going again, around nine that evening, after they spent hours lounging around lazily watching TV.

"Come on. We're in New York City, we spent days getting here, let's go out and explore!"

"I'm too tiiiired," Aramis whined.

"At least let's go get some drinks and dinner, come on," Porthos said. Athos groaned, but got up, and then he and Porthos each grabbed one of Aramis's arms to pull him out of bed.

They walked a couple of blocks until they found an appropriately dingy looking pizza place that also happened to serve alcohol, and were just settling in at a table when who walked in but D'Artagnan himself, with two young women following.

"D'Artagnan!" they all immediately exclaimed, crowding around him and hugging him, treating him like they hadn't seen him in days, not just a couple of hours.

"And is this the lovely Constance you've been telling us so much about?" Aramis said, taking her hand. It looked like he was about to kiss it, but she gave him a wary look and shook it instead.

"Yeah, and her friend Anne, too," he said. Aramis did kiss Anne's hand, and she blushed prettily.

"Come on then, join us, we have pizza and beer, D'Artagnan is too young to drink, but we can make an exception, right?" Porthos said, looking at Athos as the rule-upholder here. Athos gave him a small nod, and his mouth quirked up in a little smile as he passed a beer along to his new friend.

D'Artagnan took it and smiled. Somehow, when he wasn't looking, he had gained three new brothers, and he'd met the girl of his dreams, in real life. He wasn't sure he could ever possibly be happier than he was right at this moment, with them.


End file.
